


A Little Stress Relief

by 221brosiewilde



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: BDSM, Handcuffs, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2422118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221brosiewilde/pseuds/221brosiewilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil brings up new ideas at the most inopportune moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Stress Relief

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt given to me by my lovely girlfriend for my summer kink fest. It's one of the longest of the bunch and oddly enough, the one I'm the most proud of. I don't write for this pairing or this fandom very often, so if there are any mistakes, please let me know!   
> As always, comments and kudos are love~

Carlos blinks. “You want me to what?”

“Hit me,” Cecil repeats. He wiggles his ass and tilts his hips up a little higher. “Really, really hard.”

Carlos looks down at his boyfriend from where he’s kneeling behind him. He tries to say something eloquent. Being a scientist means that he’s good at asking questions, especially the right questions, the questions that a situation calls for. He asks the questions that will get him the straightest, most accurate answer possible.

“Um,” is what comes out instead.

Cecil turns to look at him as best he can. His movements are a bit restricted, but being handcuffed does do that. “It’s kind of the point,” Cecil had told him in his ‘you’re very cute, but also sort of dumb sometimes’ voice.

Weirdly enough, that hadn’t been as reassuring as he probably meant it.

“Carlos?”

Carlos looks back at Cecil. Right. Conversation. Spanking.

“I thought we were going to have sex,” Carlos blurts out.

Cecil nods. “That’s still happening. I just want you to hit me while we do it.”

Carlos resists the urge to rub his temples. It’s not that he’s opposed to spanking, or handcuffs, or any of that. In fact, the thought of having Cecil restrained and begging to be fucked and hurt is something that he’s thought about more than once. What he’s more interested in is the reasoning behind Cecil’s sudden request.

“That’s… I’m okay with that,” Carlos says.

Cecil brightens. “Great! Then let’s-”

Carlos holds up a hand. “But we need to talk about this first.”

Cecil groans and even Carlos has to admit that the pout on his face is pretty magnificent, but this isn’t something that he’s going to budge on. Even if he is still blindsided by the fact that Cecil is apparently, very submissive.

Cecil shifts on the bed and the handcuffs clink against the headboard. Carlos tries to ignore the Sheriff’s Secret Police logo that slithers over the cuffs and levels them with a glare. Cecil had been very vague about where he’d gotten them and Carlos figured it best not to pry.

“Okay,” Cecil says, apparently over his sulk. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I want to talk about why you’re bringing this up now,” Carlos says. He runs his hand over Cecil’s back and over the curve of his ass, watches as goosebumps appear over his skin. “I mean, we’ve mentioned it in passing. About the whole…”

“That you get off on making people cry and stuff? I know,” Cecil says. “So I figured you could do it to me. Since you know… I get off on getting hurt and stuff.”

“Right.” Carlos nods. He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he’s never been able to shake. “But why do you want to do this now? Aren’t there forms and things?”

“Filled them out at City Hall this morning!” Cecil chirps. He wiggles his hips again, more pointedly this time. “Speaking of, there is a time limit on these things. So do you want to, um.” He glances over at the lube on the nightstand and then back at Carlos. “I’d hate for us to miss our time slot.”

Carlos sighs and barely resists the urge to rub his temples. Suddenly, hitting Cecil is starting to look like a good idea. The man is fucking relentless when he wants something.

Carlos reaches over for the lube. He flips the cap and turns the bottle over to pour some out on his fingers.

“Okay,” he says. He moves behind Cecil and presses a knee between his thighs, spreading them further before sliding a finger against his entrance. He doesn’t press in, just lets spreads the lube, lets Cecil get used to the feeling. There are few things he likes being gentle with during sex, but this, opening his partner up and getting them ready for his cock, is at the top of the list. However - he uses his thumbs to spread Cecil out and digs his nails into his cheeks- if Cecil wants him to be rough, then he can do that too. “Start talking.”

Cecil groans at the first touch. He leans his weight against the cuffs and pushes his hips back. The resulting arch in his lower back is deep and perfect and Carlos can’t resist leaning down to run his tongue along his spine. He presses one finger inside of Cecil.

“I’m waiting,” he says. He curls his finger, searching.

“Right.” Cecil exhales slowly. He nods. “I just figured… I mean, you’ve been so stressed lately with, oh god...with work and all. And so have I. I thought it might be good for both of us to just...let go a little.”

Carlos blinks. Out of all the things he’d been expecting Cecil to say, he hadn’t been expecting that. He’d been expecting some half thought out argument about how hot it’d be, or how fun - certainly not something so sentimental. A soft smile curves over Carlos’s lips and he smooths his hand over Cecil’s ass, gentler than before.

“Really?” he asks. “That’s why?”

“Yes,” Cecil says, breathless. He rest his head against his forearm then turns to look at Carlos, a wry smile on his lips. “I don’t like it when you’re stressed. I don’t like it when I’m stressed. Rough sex makes us not stressed. I thought it was obvious, Mr. Scientist.”

There’s a teasing smile on his face and Carlos wants nothing more than to knock it off. He grins, filled with so much affection he thinks his chest might burst.

The smack lands loud and sharp against Cecil’s ass.

Cecil yelps. Carlos smooths his hand over the red mark on Cecil’s skin and presses another finger inside of him. “Good?”

Cecil’s moan is pornographic. He nods, bites his lip. He screws his eyes shut and presses back against Carlos’s fingers, fucking himself on them.

“Yes,” he gasps. “Oh god, do that  again.”

“Say please,” Carlos says. It’s cruel, but seeing Cecil beg is one of his favorite things and tonight he’s going to indulge himself.

Stress relief and all that.

“Please,” Cecil chokes out and Carlos can’t refuse him. He hits him again, again, then once more - three in quick succession. Cecil whimpers and twitches, takes the pain like he loves it. Carlos is breathless just watching him.

And incredibly hard. That too.

He reaches down and presses his hand against the front of his jeans to relieve the pressure a bit. He bites his lip to muffle a groan and decides to concentrate on stretching Cecil open instead.

He spreads his fingers inside of Cecil, scissoring them, and revels in the deep groan it pulls out of him.

“Carlos,” he gasps. His fingers twitch against the headboard, straining to touch himself no doubt. With a jolt of sadism, Carlos curls his fingers and pushes against Cecil’s prostate, hard. Cecil moans again. “Please.”

“Please what?” Carlos asks. He twists his fingers inside of Cecil again, watches him squirm.

“Fuck me,” Cecil says. His nails dig into the wood of the headboard. His hips buck forward, seeking friction. “Please fuck me. Hit me. Anything. Just-”

“Shh,” Carlos soothes and Cecil quiets. The words send a shiver down Carlos’s spine. His cock presses against the front of his jeans painfully. Right. Enough teasing.

He takes his fingers out of Cecil, maybe a little too quickly because Cecil hisses. Carlos winces. “Sorry,” he says, undoing the front of his jeans. He slips his cock out and exhales slowly with relief. The air is cool in the room thanks to the air conditioner buzzing away in the window and it feels amazing against his heated skin, will feel even better when the two of them are lying in a sweaty pile of limbs afterwards.

Carlos smiles at the thought and wraps his fingers around his cock, stroking himself with the lube still sticking to his fingers. He lands a light smack to Cecil’s ass.

“Ready?” he asks.

Cecil nods and shifts a little. He pushes back until his ass meets Carlos’s hips and grinds against him. It’s a slow slide of slickness and warm skin and Carlos almost loses himself in it. The urge to just rut against Cecil’s ass and thighs, to tease him, is strong, but he pushes it away. That’s not what tonight is supposed to be about.

“Carlos,” Cecil says, voice tight. “Time limit.”

Carlos blinks. Of course. The stupid forms. “Got it,” he says. He places one hand on Cecil’s hip and uses the other to guide himself into Cecil’s body.

He groans and stops, gripping the base of his cock. Even with preparation, Cecil is ridiculously tight. His body is all warmth and welcoming pressure and if Carlos doesn’t give himself a second to get used to it he’s going to come.

Cecil whimpers and tries to push back, but Carlos only tightens his grip.

“Everything alright?” Cecil asks, breathless. “Are you-”

“I’m fine,” Carlos chokes out. “You’re just-”

Cecil lets out a dark laugh. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Carlos nods. The velvet sound of Cecil’s voice really isn’t helping his current predicament, but it does take his mind off of it slightly. He moves his hips forward again. He digs his nails into Cecil’s skin, leaving crescent moon shaped indents. It seems to take forever, but finally his hips are pressed flush against Cecil’s ass.

“Good?” Cecil’s voice is tight. Tension makes knots in the muscles of his back. Carlos reaches up to press his thumbs in and Cecil relaxes almost instantly.

“Yeah,” Carlos breathes. He slides his hand down Cecil’s back, over his hip and between his legs. He wraps his fingers around Cecil’s cock, rock hard and leaking, and smirks. “I’d ask you how you’re doing but I think I have my answer.”

Cecil swallows audibly. “If you don’t move… If, Carlos I swear to god-”

Carlos cuts him off with a hard smack to his ass. He pulls out almost all the way, then slams back in again, and Cecil whines.

Carlos grins. “You were saying?”

“Again,” Cecil begs. He body goes pliant beneath Carlos and he leans his weight against the handcuffs. “Do that again, please, just don’t stop.”

Carlos bites the inside of his cheek, barely represses a moan, and starts moving. He starts off slow, lets Cecil get used to the feeling, but soon he can’t help himself. He sets a punishing rhythm, pounding into Cecil with ruthless abandon.

Cecil pushes back against him, meeting his hips with each thrust. He pants, tries to say Carlos’s name, fails, loses himself in the feeling of being fucked.

It’s possibly the most beautiful thing that Carlos has ever seen.

His hand finds Cecil’s ass again and he reels back, smacking him hard. Cecil yelps at the unexpected twinge of pain and his head bows. Carlos hits him again, harder, and Cecil lets out a quiet sob.

“More,” he begs. Carlos grins, more than happy to oblige.

He stops moving his hips and pushes Cecil until he’s pressed against the headboard. He winds a hand into Cecil’s hair and pulls his head back to expose his throat. His moves until his chest is flush against Cecil’s back, and starts moving again, slower this time. The position doesn’t really allow the fast, orgasm chasing rhythm from before - it’s more shallow, more personal - but Carlos doesn’t mind. Like this, he can feel every breath Cecil takes, can feel the moans as they start deep in his chest.

He presses his lips against Cecil’s neck and wraps an arm around his stomach. His other hand finds Cecil’s cock and strokes him in time with his thrusts.

“Like this?” he asks. He slides in deep and grinds against Cecil’s ass. “You like it when I take control, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Cecil’s voice, usually smooth and deep, sounds ruined, like he’s seconds from falling apart. The sound of it nearly does Carlos in right then. He can feel his orgasm start to creep up on him, can feel it winding its way through his body.

“I know you do,” Carlos says. His grip tightens in Cecil’s hair. He can feel Cecil shaking against him, nearing orgasm himself, and the thought is enough to bring Carlos that much closer. “You need this. I need you, I...fuck, Cecil.”

The world goes white as Carlos’s orgasm tears through him. Dimly, he can hear Cecil moan, can feel his cock twitch in his hand as he comes. He’s sweating, or one of them is, or both, but he doesn’t care. Cecil writhes against him, fucking himself onto Carlos’s cock and into his hand as he rides the aftershocks of orgasm. Finally, he slumps against the headboard and Carlos goes with him, leaning heavily against his back.

They breathe together, spent, until Carlos finally moves. “That was…” he starts, then catches sight of Cecil’s wrists. He winces. “Let me get you out of those.”

Cecil groans as Carlos pulls away and blinks at him blearily. “Good idea,” he says, voice still raspy. “Then cuddle me?”

Carlos smiles as he gets the key from the nightstand. “Of course,” he says. He takes Cecil’s wrists in his hand and fits the key in the lock. The handcuffs hiss and slither away. They slide off the bed and under the crack in the door, presumably back to their owner.

Carlos blinks, opens his mouth to say something, but then thinks better of it. He has better things to worry about.

Cecil moves to slide under the blankets and holds them open for Carlos. “Come on,” he says. “Cuddles.”

Carlos looks at the red lines around Cecil’s wrists and hovers by the bed. “We should really put something on those,” he says, nodding towards Cecil’s wrists.

Cecil shakes his head. “No,” he says and pats the spot next to him. “Later. I just want you right now.”

And how could Carlos possibly resist that? He sighs and slides under the spot next to Cecil. He wraps his arm around him and pulls him close.

“You sure?” he asks. He’s more than willing to leave, he really is, but Cecil is warm and soft and well fucked against him. His breathing is slowing down and he doesn’t look like he’s in any immediate pain. “Because I can-”

Cecil puts his hand over Carlos’s mouth. “I love you,” he says, softly. “But if you move, I’ll murder you.”

Carlos lets out a quiet laugh and kisses Cecil’s palm. “Fine,” he says, voice muffled. “I love you too.”

The air conditioner hums in the quiet of the room, a mechanical soundtrack as they fall asleep.


End file.
